Willow woke up on Saturday morning entirely too early. She tried to go back to sleep but decided it was useless. By the time half an hour had gone by, she had locked the door to her house and gone to school.
Using the back entrance to the library, she slipped into the building. It seemed too silent to Willow. She checked Giles’ office to see if Buffy had woken up again. She saw Angel sleeping with his coat draping over the windows in the office, and no Buffy. She figured Angel had stayed so he could help today instead of wasting the day away in his mansion not doing much of anything.
Curious, Willow walked back into the library and assessed the sunlight situation. There was a skylight and two smallish windows on either side of the library. Depending on the time of day, direct sunlight will always be in different sections of the room. She figured that as long as Angel stayed out of it directly, he should be fine. She hoped.
Funny thing about Angel, she thought. He was a good guy, and I hoped he wouldn’t poof. Then he was a bad guy, and I didn’t really like him around anymore. Now he’s a good guy again, and I’m hoping he doesn’t poof again, even though I know what things he’s capable of. Does that make me someone who forgives too easily? A throat clearing softly behind her interrupted Willow’s train of thought. She wheeled around, prepared to cast a spell if needed, but she dropped her guard when she saw it was only Angel standing in the door of the office. He was smiling lightly at the look of obvious relief that had shown on Willow’s face when she saw who it was.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said apologetically.
“Oh, it’s okay. I’m just not really thinking yet,” she responded, slightly embarrassed. “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry.”
“I wasn’t asleep, just resting my eyes. Is there… something wrong with the ceiling?” Angel asked. When Willow looked confused, he elaborated. “You seemed to be looking up quite intently before I interrupted.”
Clarity was apparent on Willow’s face. She smiled as she responded. “Oh, no. I was just wondering… the skylight. Will it… do you think it’ll be a problem?”
Angel looked up the way Willow had moments before. “I thought of that, but I don’t think so. Direct sunlight makes me catch on fire, and indirect light makes me weaker, but I think I’ll be okay. My coat is doing a pretty good job keeping the light out of the office; I think that’ll end up being my haven for the day.”
“Oh, okay,” Willow responded, slightly pleased that her theory was correct. “Is Buffy okay?”
“I’m not sure, actually. She woke up, seemingly good as new last night, but her common sense was out of whack. She really wanted to kill the demon, but when she got up, she fell before she could get out the door. Giles and I talked her out of it, and then he drove her home.” Angel considered telling Willow that there was something else wrong with Buffy last night, but since he didn’t know what it was, he decided to let it go.
Willow looked shocked. “You… you don’t think she would have gone out anyway, do you?”
“No, I don’t,” Angel answered quickly. “Something in her eyes changed after she was told not to. That weak quality was back. I don’t think she much felt up to it anymore.”
Willow was, again, visibly relieved. “Oh. Good, then. I mean, not good that she’s weak, but good that she didn’t try to fight anything.” She knew that if Angel thought Buffy wouldn’t have gone out, then she more than likely wouldn’t have gone out. She suddenly found herself very hungry. She realized she’d forgotten to eat something before she’d left home. “I’m going to go get something to eat. Do…” Willow caught herself before she asked Angel if he wanted anything. “Do… you drink coffee?” Okay, not the best of saves, but it was something.
Angel took a moment before he answered. “I can, but I don’t like to. I get jittery,” he said simply.
“Okay. I’ll be back in a while, then.” Speaking with Angel about something other than the Hellmouth was awkward at best, but it was interesting to see the hidden charm that Angel rarely let shine. There was something about him that made Willow understand she wasn’t being judged. It was clear that she was equal to Angel, and that gave her an obscure sense of security. She smiled a bit as she turned and left through the entrance she came in, finally fully understanding what exactly it was Buffy saw in this poor vampire with a soul.
***
By the time Willow got back, Giles, Xander and Oz had joined Angel around the table in the library. The boxes of donuts and coffee Willow was carrying made opening the door a bit of a task. Oz and Xander hurried up to help her while Giles and Angel remained in conversation. “Thanks,” she breathed. “I’ve got breakfast. I just… didn’t realize everyone would be here so early.”
Xander lunged for the donuts hungrily. “Yeah. Couldn’t sleep. Something about the slayer being out of commission makes my defense system stay on guard 24/7.” He stuffed a Boston Cream into his mouth before he finished. “Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”
Having put the coffee down, Oz gave Willow a kiss on the forehead as good morning before he grabbed himself a cup of caffeine along with a donut. Willow noticed no evidence of research having started yet, so she took a coffee and a chair and joined the circle with comfortable grace. Giles grabbed himself a jelly donut before they disappeared, as they so often did without warning. “Good morning, Willow,” he started. “Angel and I were just discussing the fact that Buffy hadn’t healed at all last night. She also seemed a touch disoriented. Nothing should cause a Slayer so much trouble. She should have nearly completely healed by now.”
Willow thought only for a moment before saying, “You’ve probably already considered this, but it could be a curse of some kind.”
Angel cleared his throat before Willow could continue. “I didn’t sense anything besides that demon around. It would have had to give the curse to her by simply biting her. Curses have to be said, they can’t just be… bitten.”
“And even so,” Giles added, “We should be able to know if it’s a curse. I’ve never heard of any curse that can affect a slayer like that.”
“True,” Willow said, slightly dejected. “But, have you considered that the demon itself was cursed? It could be why it had that cloud around its head.” Willow suddenly started waving her arms around in excitement and she turned toward Giles. “Oh! Oh! Maybe it was a Plague Curse.”
Giles furrowed his brow slightly. “Well now, there’s a thought.”
“It’s not a Plague Curse,” Angel said sternly.
“How do you—“ Willow began.
“It’s not a Plague Curse,” Angel repeated with a dark certainty that no one was really willing to argue with.
“Plague Curse?” Xander asked Willow.
“It’s a series of curses created in England in the 16th and 17th centuries. Some of the curses became very popular, and eventually they became so common that they lost their mysticality, creating the different forms of the plagues that surged through England in that era,” Willow explained quickly.
A silence fell between the Slayerettes. Angel surprised the gang by reaching over and grabbing a donut. He took a sizeable bite and then noticed everyone staring at him. He looked between them and saw the looks on their faces. “I like a donut every now and then. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
This struck Willow as quite funny. She tried to stifle her giggles, but a few made their way out. Everyone looked at her, startled by the noise. Oz and Angel were smiling lightly; Angel because he appreciated that Willow clearly thought of him as a person and not just a vampire in disguise, and Oz just because he loved it when Willow smiled. It lit up his day without fail every time.
This lovely moment was interrupted by the front doors to the library swung open with an amazing suddenness that made Xander jump, accompanied by a loud voice saying, “Okay. It’s Saturday. I should be sleeping right now, but for some reason this bizarro situation has caused my perfect sleep schedule to screw up. It’s Saturday, hello, the day of rest. And yet I found myself in bed staring at the ceiling for an hour because I couldn’t sleep anymore. We have to fix this.”
“It’s lovely to see you as well, Cordelia,” Giles gibed. “And I believe Sunday is the day of rest, actually.”
“Whatever. Where’s Buffy? Isn’t she here yet? Shouldn’t she be fixing things?” Cordelia grabbed a cup of coffee and grimaced at the donuts. “Is there something less… ick around?”
“Oh!” Willow said suddenly behind her. She brought out a small paper bag from her backpack and handed it to Cordelia, who opened it to find a blueberry muffin inside.
“Oh,” she said with shock. “Thanks, Willow,” she added sincerely. Ever since Cordelia and Oz had caught Xander and Willow making with the smoochies, Cordelia had been ignoring Willow fairly effectively. Now she felt mildly guilty about it and decided that if Oz could forgive Willow, then Cordelia probably could, too.
“We don’t know where Buffy is,” Oz supplied. “She’ll get here when she gets here. She’s probably still…” Suddenly, Oz frowned a little.
“What?” Willow asked, not really concerned as much as curious. She recognized the look on her boyfriend’s face, and it usually meant contemplation.
Oz turned to Angel. “Can vampires fall asleep on command? I mean, if you know you need to be refreshed for the daytime, can you sleep through the night even after sleeping through the day?”
Angel looked at Oz evenly, starting to understand what had caused the change in the werewolf’s demeanor. “Usually,” he responded. “Not last night, though. I never drifted off.”
Oz turned back to Willow. “And you didn’t sleep well, right? You’d been here and gone before I’d even gotten out of bed.” She nodded, and Oz turned to Giles and Xander. “You arrived at about the same time I did, and…” He turned a final time to Cordelia. “…If you really were lying in bed for an hour, then we all woke up at about the same time. With the exception of, of course, Angel, who didn’t sleep at all, and Willow, who woke up about an hour earlier than we did. Yet…”
“Buffy still sleeps.” Giles finished the sentence for him. He had a very indecipherable look on his face that made Willow shiver. She shifted uncomfortably and her eyes fell upon Angel, who was wearing an expression nearly identical to Giles’.
Xander piped up suddenly to Oz with a mouthful of donut, “You know, I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say.”
Oz smirked and raised an eyebrow at Xander. “I don’t often have much to say.” Willow looked over at Cordelia and saw that she was enthralled with eating her muffin. Willow seemed to be the only one who noticed the weird expressions on the faces of the elders of the group.
Suddenly, Giles slapped the table decidedly and headed once again into the book cage. Angel followed almost immediately, and the two spoke in hushed voices about something that clearly wasn’t meant to be overheard.
Xander frowned. “Okay, that was interesting. Anyone care to fill me in on what just happened here? Is there some sort of Supernatural vibe that I’m not getting?”
“I think it’s a party for the elders only. They know something we just don’t,” Oz supplied.
Cordelia looked worried. “And judging by the relocate, I don’t think we really want to know.”
A deep feeling of dread for her best friend fell quite suddenly over Willow. “I’m calling Buffy,” she said a bit too loudly. She strode boldly over to the phone and dialed Buffy’s number off by heart.
Joyce answered on the second ring. “Ms. Summers, hi.”
“Well, good morning, Willow,” Joyce said pleasantly. “You’re awake early. Buffy’s not up yet, though. I suppose you need her for more research?”
“Actually, I need you to check on Buffy. Now. Er, please.” Willow had broken into a sweat and all the color had drained from her face. Oz was by her side instantly, stroking her hair and trying to get her to calm down.
“…All right. May I ask why?”
“Just… I… just a feeling, I guess,” Willow said unconvincingly. She could hear the door to Buffy’s room being opened.
“She seems just fine, Willow,” Joyce whispered. “I can’t see anything wrong with her or the room.” Though it was very dark. The curtains Buffy had put up just recently made the room look like it was night. Suddenly, she could hear crying. At first she thought it was Buffy, but then she realized that it was Willow. “Oh, what’s wrong? Is everyone all right?”
“Everyone here is fine. Can you wake her up? Please? I… she…” Willow trailed off into uncontrollable sobs. She could hear the phone being taken away from Willow, and Xander came on the line.
“Hey, Ms. S. I’m not sure what Willow’s deal is, but I don’t think you need to wake up Buffy. We’ll calm the Willster down and get to the bottom of what’s bothering her. Sorry about the early call.”
“It’s no problem, Xander. As long as Willow’s all right. I was already up for some reason anyway. I guess it's just that kind of Saturday,” Joyce said. Xander’s voice sounded weak as they bode their farewells, but she thought nothing of it. Joyce hung up and decided to check on her daughter more closely.
Joyce walked to the other side of the bed so she could see Buffy’s face. Joyce was so shocked at what she saw that she dropped the phone. Buffy’s face was completely ashen. Except for the light rise and fall of her chest, Joyce would have sworn that Buffy was… was…
She took her daughter’s pulse just to be certain. Yep, there it was. Slower than it should be at rest, but as the Slayer, she supposed Buffy’s heartbeat always had been and likely always will be slower than normal. Unable to help herself, Joyce burst into tears, and caressed her daughter’s face. She didn’t know what was happening, but she was certain the supernatural was behind it. If her daughter wasn’t able to handle it, then Mr. Giles and the rest of the gang would have to.
Joyce wiped the tears angrily from her eyes and bent to retrieve the phone from the floor. When she stood up again, already dialing the number of the library, a very strong figure picked her up and threw her out of Buffy’s room. The last thing Joyce remembered before she fell unconscious was a raspy voice saying something she could have sworn was Latin.
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